


Supermarket

by orphan_account



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, One Shot, post-DotL but no spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:11:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4271322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valkyrie Cain and Skulduggery Pleasant are far from average, and what they get up to after saving the world is just about what you'd expect from them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supermarket

She has long, straight dark hair tucked behind her ears and she’s wearing a sundress with little pink and orange and red flowers on it. It’s cool inside the supermarket, and she strides up and down the aisles, looking at but not really seeing the colourful products in neat little rows.

There is a man at the end of the aisle now. Despite the summer heat outside he’s wearing a suit and a pair of gloves. The other patrons stare at him when he passes them, and as he approaches where she stands her heart starts beating faster. Can he hear it? Can he tell what kind of reaction she’s having as she watches him stroll casually down the aisle?

His hair is wickedly black, his beard a faint stubble like he missed his shave this morning. And as he nears she can see he has green eyes, almost unnaturally green, and they’re looking at her the way a predator looks at its dinner.

She swallows. He’s almost past her. She expects him to say something to her, to try to touch her, but he simply walks by.

But out the corner of her eye she sees his hand move just slightly, and a wisp of air rushes up her dress, causing her skirt to flutter.

That cheeky bastard.

She turns to him, ready to confront him and _how dare you_ but he turns on his heel, meets her eye, and she’s in trouble.

Without a word she spins in the other direction and begins to walk away as quickly as she can.. She turns the corner, risks a glance back. He’s not following.

At least she thinks he’s not, until she reaches the back wall of the store and shoots another look over her shoulder, and sees him stalking towards her, coming up on her quicker than his lazy gait would suggest.

Her heart is hammering in her throat now, and she’s jogging towards the back, towards the _employees only_ door, and without a second to consider she pushes through. The back is all concrete, with none of the polished cleanliness of the storefront, and there are boxes and garbage bags everywhere, but at the other side is exactly what she needs—the exit.

He opens the door just behind her, and she whirls to face him, still moving carefully backwards. He’s adjusting his gloves, staring straight into her eyes. Until he breaks his gaze away and moves it languidly up her body instead.

Will there be enough time?

She’s got no choice but to run for it. She bolts towards the exit and he’s abandoning all pretense to chase after her. She bursts through the door to the alley in back of the shop, brick walls and graffiti and no witnesses, hears him tearing after her, but she’s out in the open now, she’s going to make it, she’s—

She slams into the wall, hard, and a grunt of air escapes her. He’s crushing her against the bricks with his body.

She throws up her arms to deflect him, uses her fingers to twist into his suit to pull him off of her, but he gathers up both her hands faster than she can think and pushes them into the wall. Her front is flush against it, and he’s right up against her back. She’s breathing hard. He’s not.

He starts laughing, his voice low and sensual, and when he leans down to whisper in her ear she shudders and jerks back against him involuntarily.

“ _I’ve got you.”_

Oh god, this is bad. He knows exactly what that voice does to her.

He’s holding her wrists in his right hand, and with his left he begins to glide down her body, appreciating the swell of her chest, her toned stomach, her hips. She bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut.

That’s when he takes off his glove with his teeth and his fingers, so cold, slip up the back of her leg, her thigh, to her pants.

He’s not seriously going to…?

He does. He moves past the band of her pants and drags them down, slowly. She whimpers, thrusting her backside into his front, and he _moans_. She smiles; at least she got that out of him.

Almost in punishment he grips her backside, bare now, her pants down mid-thigh, and she can feel herself getting wet with his hand in such close proximity.

He’s teasing her, she knows, because he stops suddenly and she growls, opens her mouth to complain, but before she can say a word he’s spinning her around and pushing her back again. This time they’re face to face, his intense green eyes boring holes through hers, that left hand tracing the outline of her hipbone. His right abandons her wrists (he knows she’s done) and slides around her neck instead, squeezing just tight enough to send a sharp thrill through her stomach.

Her head falls back and he mouths at her neck, murmuring low, sending vibrations into her hot skin.

His hand is his between her legs now, and without much warning he strokes her, once, quickly, just enough for his finger to come back slick, and the smile this elicits from him is the most devilish she’s ever seen.

She’s breathing so heavy now, panting near his lips, and she can’t stop staring at them. He knows what she wants and brings his lips down to claim hers in a crushing kiss. At the very same moment he slips a finger inside her and she bucks her hips, his right hand now at her shoulder to keep her against the wall.

He’s not flushed, he’s not panting, but she _knows_ he’s feeling it, can tell it in the way he looks at her, tilts his head, how every time she gasps “ _ah!”_ he seems to grow in confidence until he’s veritably looming over her, trapping her there, putting in a second finger—

“Oh my god,” she whispers, and he shuts her up with another kiss, kisses her like she’s the sexiest thing he’s ever known, and his thumb is swirling around her clit and _god_ it is good.

She doesn’t last long. How could she? He’s sucking on her neck hard enough to leave a bruise, his fingers never ceasing their clever ministrations (how does a man become so dexterous?), and she feels her muscles begin to tighten and just as she’s about to come, her fingers buried in his lapels, pulling him as close as they can be together, his façade runs out of juice and melts away into nothing.

And that’s fine by her.

This is the face she knows, the face that belongs to the person on this earth she cares about the most.

And oh god, she’s coming, and it causes her whole body to quiver as she clutches his skull, whispers wicked, sweet nonsense against the bone, and he lets her ride it out against his skeleton fingers until the world dilates and she can register colour and sound again.

She looks around the alley and then to him, and _whack_! hits him right on the skull. Not hard enough to do any damage, of course.

“Look at this place! This has got to be the least romantic spot in the entire city.”  
  
“This was your idea,” he retorts, and chuckles when he pulls his fingers out of her and she sucks in a breath.

She pulls up her underwear. “Yeah, because I’m sure this was such a hardship for you.”

“My dear, nearly everything is a hardship when you’re involved.” Skulduggery is putting on his gloves again (he’ll wash them when he gets home; she will make damn sure of it).

“I can’t believe you got me to wear this!” she complains, gesturing to the floral sundress. She’s not listening to him at all.

“I think it looks very fetching.”

He offers her his arm, and with a sigh she takes it. They walk out of the alley towards the Bentley.

“Is there something about seeing me all defenceless and mortal-like that does it for you, or what?”

“Is there something about me taking advantage of poor, defenceless, mortal-like you that does it for you, or what?” he shoots back.

She doesn’t answer him and he looks as smug as a skeleton can.

“You didn’t win this argument, just so you know. There’s no sense gloating about it.”

He looks down at her wrinkled sundress and flushed cheeks. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> In my head Val and Skulduggery live the kind of life after DotL where they just pull this nonsense all the time.


End file.
